I re-read an oldie featuring Hercule Poirot, along with his friend Arthur Hastings, who tells the story. Poirot receives a letter imploring him to come to an estate in France, where a man, Paul Renauld, thinks his life is in danger. Poirot and Hastings immediately head there, but when they arrive, the man is already dead, found stabbed in an open pit on a golf course. They are told that two foreigners tied up Renauld's wife in the middle of the night and took Renauld away after he was unable to give the men "the secret." The solution to this murder involves a possible connection with Santiago, Chile (where the man resided for some time), a possible mistress or two, along with a son who quarreled with his father before leaving at the father's request to attend to business in Santiago.
Poirot spars with the young French detective on the scene, each of them thinking that the detective work of the other leaves much to be desired. Poirot keeps trying to figure out why this case reminds him of another one, many years ago. Hastings finds himself wondering why Poirot is not digging in the dirt for clues, as the French detective is. The plot keeps adding alternative possibilities as more is learned, making it difficult to figure out "who done it," especially after another dead body is discovered. But in the end, after a bit of an estrangement between Poirot and Hastings, of course Poirot has figured it out. And all ends well.
